


Take

by Fragged



Series: Give & Take [2]
Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:10:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3881761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fragged/pseuds/Fragged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He isn't sure what he wants – only that he wants more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take

He wakes up, and for a few seconds he has no idea where he is. Then he realizes the warmth folded around his back is Colonel Young, and everything comes flooding back. He'd gone over here with the express intent of having sex. With Young. And the man had gone along with it. 

Rush had entered into it thinking he'd trade something Young wanted to get something he wanted for himself, but as it turned out he'd probably gotten the better end of the bargain there, because apparently he quite enjoyed getting fucked by Young. Who knew? 

His arse is a bit tender – it doesn't _hurt_ , but he can feel it. He's very aware of it. It doesn't help that Young's erection is poking against his bare skin, reminding him of what they did, not... he checks his phone. Not four hours ago. 

Technically, it's still night. Technically, he could... and it would fall within the parameters of what they'd agreed upon. If he wants – and yeah, he can admit to himself that he still wants, maybe not with the same kind of determined desperation of last night, but with a surprisingly insistent emphasis – he can have more. 

Assuming Young does, too. 

Well. That is probably a safe assumption - last night seems proof that the man is just as hungry for some kind of physical connection as Rush is. 

He turns around in Young's arms. His own prick has been feeling hot and engorged since he awoke, even if he isn't all the way up, yet. Young makes a sleepy sound and tightens his arm around Rush's back, and Rush takes a moment or two to appreciate the man's face, relaxed and content in sleep. Then he licks a wet stripe up his hand and reaches down to close it around Young's erection. He keeps his grip loose, teasing more than stroking, and watches as Young's eyes blink open – dazed to confused, to understanding, to confused again – and smirks when the man seems to freeze in his touch. 

“Rush?” he husks, and Rush squeezes lightly on his upstroke. He feels something thrilling and proud when Young lets his eyes slip closed and utters a bewildered moan. 

“You want?” he asks, letting his thumb swipe over the head of Young's cock, pushing down a little against the slit. 

“Fuck,” Young breathes out, and when he looks up his eyes glitter brightly in the dim blue light of the FTL trails. “Yeah,” he says, and then he surges forward and kisses Rush, plundering his mouth with a kind of heated urgency that seems even more emphatic than last night. 

Rush groans into it, because _Christ_ , Young is good like this. Forceful and strong, but somehow almost careful in his touches. 

Rush lets himself be pushed onto his back, lets Young climb on top of him as his tongue works hot and slick inside his mouth. His hands steal up to wind around Young's back, and then their cocks are pressed against each other, hard and fervent. He moans into Young's mouth and wishes he had more room to thrust against the hollow of Young's stomach, but Young's legs are on the outsides of his own, and he's unable to do much more than buck his hips jerkily against Young's in movements that are too slight to do anything but frustrate. 

He isn't sure what he wants – only that he wants more. 

He sucks on Young's tongue before breaking away. 

“You'll take care of me after, yeah?” he asks, refusing to acknowledge that Young could take that in more than one way. 

Young just groans incoherently and nods, before bending down to place a trail of soft kisses against his jawline. The tenderness of it makes something quiver in Rush's chest, and he allows it for a bit longer than maybe he should. 

He pushes hard against the mattress, using his elbow for leverage to roll them over so he's on top again. He wraps his fingers around Young's length and begins stroking immediately – a rough, demanding rhythm that is just a tad too dry to be entirely comfortable, he knows. Young doesn't seem to mind, though, letting his head fall back against the pillow with a groan as his hands rub distractedly against the outsides of Rush's thighs. 

He can feel Young getting wetter, the precome on his tip slippery when he grazes through it with his fingertips, and he watches with avid interest as Young pushes up into his fist and closes his eyes. 

“Rush,” he whispers, and yeah, that's nice from this close up. Rush leans forward to nip at Young's lips, and he won't lie to himself about how Young grabbing his arse so hard it almost hurts makes him twitch with excited lust. 

Young opens his mouth to him, and then Rush is licking inside as his hand pumps in a steady pace over Young's cock. Fuck, it shouldn't be this easy, probably, but he feels perfect; the silky flesh between his fingers a warm reminder that Young _wants_ this, wants _him_ ; his tongue in Rush's mouth almost slack with the onslaught of pleasure. 

He can feel it when Young's breath starts to come in faster pants, when it begins to hitch, and he moves back from the kiss a little to better observe Young's cock in the dim blue light of the room. 

“Jesus, oh – _fuck_ ,” Young groans, and Rush can tell the exact moment he climaxes– his back muscles tightening up and his prick suddenly pulsing a hiccuping stream of come onto Young's belly, not far past his navel. 

When he's done, Rush lets his hand unwind from around Young's length, mindlessly wiping a few stray bits of ejaculate on the sheets. He looks down at the man underneath him - dazed and flushed, covered in his own mess - and he can't help himself, he wants to know... He sweeps a finger through the come on Young's stomach and sucks it inside his mouth. It tastes... not as bad as he'd thought, not at all, and he feels his own cock lurch in response. God, he's hard. 

“Jesus,” Young pants. “Did you just—” he lets out a hard breath. “ _Fuck_ , Rush.” 

“Hmm,” he replies, bending forward to invade Young's mouth again. Christ, he truly enjoys this, kissing the Colonel, making him grasp and squeeze at him as his tongue tries to keep up with Rush. He enjoys it more than he'd imagined, and he'd imagined a _lot_. 

“You promised,” he says against Young's lips when the man's breathing goes from deep, heaving gasps to a more quiet rhythm. 

Young huffs out a laugh, and if he didn't know better Rush would almost say he sounds _affectionate_ , right now, before flipping Rush over with an amount of ease that should probably make him feel indignant. Instead, it just turns him on like crazy, and he isn't sure what kind of sound is coming out of his mouth as Young bites at his chin before moving lower to suck harshly at one of his nipples. 

He feels teeth scraping, and fuck, yeah, that is something he can get behind. Jesus. 

Young lingers, just long enough to make him feel desperate and on the edge of asking for more, before throwing back the covers completely and settling in between his knees. Young's hand is on his cock, and Rush is already arching into the touch before Young closes his mouth over him, and _fuck_. The wet, sucking heat is fantastic, made even more remarkable by the fact that this is _Young_ , Young is sucking him off, and it shouldn't shock him after tonight, but it still does. 

“Yes,” he hisses, and then he lets out a strangled curse as Young works a dry finger inside of him, curling right into his prostate and reminding him harshly of the fact he got fucked just a few hours ago. 

Jesus, that's hardly comfortable, but Young's mouth on him is soft and hot, and the pressure against his inner walls is something he honestly wants more of, so he lets his eyes slip shut and allows the sensations to wash over him. 

It feels amazing, and Rush loses himself in desire and Young for what could be seconds or hours. He doesn't know exactly when it happens, but he finds himself with his hands in Young's hair, riding the very edge of climax, balancing precariously on that all-consuming wave of _yes, yes, more_. God, he's close.

It takes him a while to realize that that's his own voice, moaning Young's name. His fingers clench and his hips jerk and he feels Young's throat convulse spastically around his cock. 

“Christ, _fuck_!” he bites out as Young sputters, pulls back to keep from choking, and then he's coming, a hot rush of unstoppable pleasure razing through him, out of him, and he's only half-aware that most of his spunk lands on Young's face. 

Young swallows audibly and coughs twice, and Rush feels a harsh shudder go through him when he looks down and sees the glistening streak of come on Young's cheek. God, Young looks completely debauched, and he'd almost feel guilty if it wasn't for the dirty grin on the man's face. 

“You like that?” Young asks, voice rough, before pressing against Rush's prostate with the finger that's still inside of him. Rush twitches a little, and Young smiles up at him as he extracts his finger and moves over Rush until he's at eye level again. 

There's a droplet of come in Young's hair, and Rush takes it between his thumb and forefinger. He holds the digits up to Young's mouth, and watches in astonishment as Young licks his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact. _Fuck_. 

“Yeah,” he grunts. God, his entire body feels shaky and unglued. If he'd known Young was going to be like this, he'd have done this ages ago, because goddamn, did he need this. 

Young chuckles and bends over him to grab a hand towel from the bedside table. He wipes his face with a small grimace, and then cleans his own come off his stomach before dropping the rag next to the bed. He checks his watch and then puts it back on the nightstand. 

“We still have a couple of hours of sleep,” Young says, leaning closer to press a slow kiss into Rush's mouth. 

His lips are soft and warm, and his tongue is slick. Rush knows he'll hate himself for this in the morning, but he reaches his arms up to wind around Young's shoulders and wraps his legs around Young's hips until he can pull his body down flush against his own. It feels comforting and safe and just a little bit constricting, and it's amazing to have someone's weight against him like this, to have _Young_ against him like this. He feels perfect. Sated. Exhausted. 

Young makes a content humming noise into his mouth, and Rush lets his eyes drift closed. 

He falls asleep still kissing Young. 

-

He wakes up barely an hour later, and already the cold hard edges of reality are creeping in. Physically, he feels good. His muscles are a little strained and his whole body is a bit tired – like he's been on a particularly vigorous hike yesterday – but he feels good. His mind, however, has a few choice words to say to him. He never should have gone over here. It was a dumb decision. 

He just risked altering his entire relationship with Young, all over some meaningless sex. 

Even more frustrating is the fact that it doesn't seem to have worked. Knowing what Young is like in bed instead of wondering and fantasizing about it has done nothing for the urge itself. He still wants more, and that wasn't supposed to happen. Because one night of casual sex is fine; they're stuck together on a spaceship with no realistic perspectives of leaving anytime soon. A few ill-advised trysts among the crew members are to be expected. 

But they can't do this again. He won't allow himself more than this. Because if he does, soon he will find himself becoming dependent on it - on _Young_ \- and that's not something he wants. It's not something he can afford. The sex with Young was good. It was great. It was...

—it doesn't matter what it was. It was a one time deal. All he really wants now is to forget the whole thing. 

Young has migrated to the left side of the bed while they slept, so it's not difficult to slip out from under the covers undetected. Rush quietly collects his clothes and dresses himself, before sliding on his shoes and fastening the laces with haphazard knots. 

He can't help but feel something almost somber wash over him as he takes one last look at Young's naked shoulders, broad and strong and genuinely pleasing, from an aesthetic standpoint. He doubts he'll ever get to see them like this again. 

It's no use being so maudlin about this, though, and the minute he sneaks out of Young's room, as silently and quickly as possible, he's already listing the things he needs to fix or improve on the ship today in order of priority. 

He's had his fun. Now it's time to get back to work. 

-

His initial plan is to avoid Young the next few days. 

Unfortunately, they get attacked by what appears to be a wayward alien ship only a day after their night together, and Young radioes him to 'get his ass over to the bridge right now, Rush'. 

While Rush doesn't appreciate his tone, he does appreciate that the Colonel sounds like nothing has changed between them. 

It's a close call – it always is, these days – but they hold out until the recovery period of the FTL engines has passed, and they jump to safety. After the initial damage reports, Rush spends most of his day dividing his attention between overseeing the repairs to an overloaded shield module and figuring out whether there is a problem with the long-range sensors. 

It doesn't leave him much time to contemplate what he really shouldn't be contemplating anyway, and he doesn't think about Young until it's evening and he's on his way back to his quarters. 

_“Rush, Brody just told me you finished fixing the shields?”_

Rush huffs out a hard breath at the way his heartbeat picks up. It has nothing to do with Young, it's simply because he wasn't expecting his radio to go off. 

Click. “Yes, Colonel, they're back up to strength.” 

_“Alright. That's good.”_ The transmission pauses for a moment, and Rush wonders why Young even radioed him. The whole point of sending Brody over to report was so he wouldn't have to speak to Young alone. _“Get some rest.”_

Rush rolls his eyes. He doesn't need anyone to tell him when to sleep. He's perfectly capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much. 

Still, he doesn't feel like getting into anything resembling an argument with Young right now, because fighting with Young always makes his heart race and his skin prickle, and after last night he thinks it safer to avoid any kind of inappropriate associations. 

“Fine,” he snaps into his radio. 

Young doesn't respond for a few seconds, and when he does his voice sounds gruff and businesslike. _“Goodnight, Rush.”_

Rush frowns. This call was completely unnecessary. Young never bids him a good night. 

It makes him feel uneasy to think perhaps Young _is_ changing his behavior, after all, but there's not much he can do other than refuse to encourage Young. The mistake has been made - now it's up to him to deal with the consequences. He sighs, and clicks off his radio. 

-

The next morning he runs into Young in the mess hall. It's hardly a rare occurrence, on a ship with less than seventy people. Young gives him a long look and a quiet nod – and that too is not a rare occurrence, but it still feels _different_ somehow. Different from before. 

Once again Rush reproaches himself for having had sex with Young. 

Even if the memory of it helped him get to sleep last night.

-

His concerns and suspicions get confirmed that afternoon. He's seen it coming, in a way, but it still takes him entirely by surprise. 

“Rush!” Young calls, from a few dozen paces behind him. Rush stops, turns around, and resists the urge to flee as Young catches up to him. 

“Colonel,” he says in wary greeting. They're both on their way back from the control interface room – Rush hadn't even known Young knew of these corridors, but perhaps that was naive. Why wouldn't Young know? 

“You wanna grab some lunch before going back to the bridge?” Young asks, and Rush can't help but flick his eyes down to Young's mouth. He never should've slept with Young. It is different, knowing what the man kisses like. What he fucks like. 

“Rush,” Young says, voice suddenly quiet and dark, and then he's grabbing Rush's hand, leaning closer to kiss him. Rush is stunned for a few seconds, stumbling back against the wall as his traitorous body arches up into Young's touch and his eyes slip closed. Young's lips are still soft and warm, and his tongue brings back flashes of Young licking at him, swallowing him down, like he'd liked it. Like he'd _wanted_ it. 

And this is not, he can't, he wasn't... 

“No!” he blurts out, shoving Young off him roughly. He takes a heaving breath and scrambles away from the wall, putting a few steps of distance between him and Young. “What the fuck was that, Colonel?!” 

Young looks vaguely taken aback – which probably means he's completely shocked – and Rush feels his heart do a rapid little flip, because that minute trace of confusion fades and an unhappy little wrinkle creases up between Young's brows instead. 

“I thought—“ Young starts to say, but Rush interrupts him. He doesn't want to get into a deeply personal conversation about romantic expectations. Not with Young. Not right here in the corridor. Their night together had been good, but that was all it was. He isn't looking for a relationship. Certainly not with Young. And if Young thinks he can claim Rush like this just because they've had one night of sex, he's got another fucking think coming. Goddammit, his entire body feels like it's trembling, buzzing with an irrepressible voltage. Young is such a... He crosses his arms over his chest and takes a shallow breath.

“Yes, well. You thought wrong. The terms to our agreement were clear.” 

“Terms,” Young says, frown growing more pronounced by the second. “Right.” 

An uncomfortable silence settles between them. “Right,” Rush repeats. “I have to get back to work.” 

He hurries away, not really caring where he's going as long as it's a safe distance from here. By the time he rounds the corner of the corridor, Young has turned in the other direction. The bowed set of his shoulders makes it appear as if he's walking uphill, the weight of worlds on his back, and Rush forces down the small pang of guilt the sight inspires and tries to focus on his indignation instead. He'd been upfront about the rules. Young shouldn't have expected Rush to give in to him just because he let Young fuck him once. 

There is no room for anything more here. Not on this ship. Not between the two of them. 

Rush shakes his head and frowns. He should never have slept with Young.

Sometimes knowing isn't better than wondering.


End file.
